


The Old Temple

by BleatingGoat (Nat20)



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gen, a short backstory to one of my dnd characters, at the time of the game Era is 17 years old, in this story Era is 14 years old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27485146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nat20/pseuds/BleatingGoat
Summary: A short backstory for a dnd character of mine, written mostly to share with the dm.





	The Old Temple

They sat on the stone steps, looking out over the meadows and the old dirt path that led to the sea. The scent of salt was on the air and the gathering clouds in the sky promised rain. But what Era's eyes were really set on was the boat that was setting off to sea. A cart was also approaching the ancient temple. The old donkey pulling it was taking her time, her old knees only able to go so fast. Era was fine with that. They stood up and started to make their way down the twisting stone steps and onto the dirt path. Era kicked up more dirt than was probably necessary, just watching how the small dirt clouds would waft with the wind and leave marks on their foot wraps. Wash day was coming up. Era was already told they would need to wash all the clothing of their fellow monks. Punishment, Master Myron had said, for being a distraction. But that was fine, Era preferred to be left alone to do laundry anyway. It beat getting screamed at for nothing.

They dragged their staff along the dirt behind them, finding the noise comforting. The cart was getting closer now, to the point Era could make out the donkey's long face. They picked up pace, running now to get closer and raising an arm to wave at the driver. They winced as their arm raised too high, their side aching in a dull pain.

“Hello, Mr. Godric!” Era said brightly, running a hand along the donkey's neck before walking around the cart. “Do you mind if I get a lift back?”

Mr. Godric nodded, giving Era a patient smile and stopping the cart. Era jumped in the back, crossing their legs and laying their staff on their lap. Their smile grew brighter and Era opened their eyes, showing the bright gold irises. Master Myron and Master Emmanuel hated Era's eyes, perhaps that was why the young monk got along squinting most of the time and averting their gaze.

“How was your trip, master?”

The dwarven monk considered Era, stroking his beard thoughtfully. Master Fibonacci always decorated his beard with black and white flowers and the odd raven feather or two. Their robes were faded with age, but kept clean despite the hard work of preparing bodies for burial and organizing the funerals.

“Very good, Erastos. The lord's funeral went by without a hitch and the cause of death was natural. He went peacefully surrounded by loved ones.” Fibonacci gave Era a steady glance before sitting up a bit straighter. “I saw you approach, it seemed you moved differently. Are you alright?”

Era nodded. “I'm alright, just a minor injury from sparring. Master Myron said that since I keep getting hurt, I'm not allowed to spar anymore, since it shows I'm too stupid for the lessons. I tried to explain to him that Darren was using too much force, but he said I should stop fibbing and shut up.”

The dwarf grunted and looked to Era's staff. “That is far too short for you now. You must have grown taller since I left.”

“Yes, sir, about four inches taller. I asked Master Emmanuel about a new staff, but he said that we didn't have the resources to make me a new one. But everyone else got a new one last week, so I guess they just ran out of wood.”

“They don't just run out of the wood, Erastos,” Fibonacci grumbled shaking his head. Era watched the elder monk carefully, trying to gauge if Fibonacci's annoyance was with them or someone else. Era would safely assume it was with them.

“I mean, it's alright, you know? I've gotten attached to this one.”

Fibonacci shook his head. “No, I will get everything arranged for a new staff, as well as new clothing and proper shoes.”

“Oh, Master Emmanuel has told me that since I work in the fields with the animals so much, I'm not allowed to wear anymore shoes. I keep getting them dirty and tracking in dirt and stuff.”

“Has he told anyone else this?”

“No, just me. I'm the only one working in the fields now. And doing the laundry. And cleaning the dining hall. Master Myron said that I need to focus on cleaning to purify my soul before I can be allowed to begin training again. Something about having a distasteful soul because I was left here at the temple, I think. I stopped listening half-way through.”

Fibonacci took in a deep breath and let it out as a controlled stream. His fist had tightened in his beard and his other hand laid at his side. After a moment, he relaxed and folded both hands on his belly, leaning back in the cart. “I see,” he said quietly. “I will speak to them when we arrive.”

They sat there for a few moments, Era noting how calloused their feet and hands were. It had been several months since Fibonacci had been at the temple, but Era was used to the shifts that came with the master's arrival. When Fibonacci left, Era was faced with the treatment they were used to. Being yelled at, ordered around, mocked, and having meals withheld for simply speaking up or acting out of turn. But the moment Fibonacci arrived, Era found things changed. They were allowed to eat in the dining hall with everyone else, even if they messed up. Other monks had to share the work with Era instead of making them do all the chores themselves. Master Emmanuel seemed to treat Era with more respect while Master Myron avoided the child all together. It always made Era wonder...

“Master Fibonacci, can I go with you on your next trip? Please?” They asked quietly, speaking as if they were afraid of getting hit at the mere question.

There were a few moments of silence, filled only by a thoughtful hum. “I'm afraid not, Erastos. I'd love to take you with me, I feel you'd learn more out in the field than here, but the tenants of our predecessors state that no monk is allowed to leave the temple until they are eighteen. Then you begin your pilgrimage to the original temple. If the high monks found out you have betrayed that tradition, you may never be exalted to the same tier as other masters, you may even be kicked from the temples entirely.”

“But I'm not learning anything here,” Era said, looking up at Fibonacci. “Except how to do chores.”

“I will be staying at the temple for a few months, young Erastos. I will have another _firm_ talk with Master Myron and Emmanuel. Until then, enjoy the time you have in the safety of the temple. It is better than some other places.”

Era nodded. “So... in four years I'll be able to go out on my pilgrimage? Is it possible I could go early if I asked nicely?”

“No, Erastos. No one in their right mind would send anyone younger than eighteen on their pilgrimage. It isn't a fair system, and if I could change it I would, but we must honor the will of the high monks. They have direct contact with the Raven Queen, after all.”

Era looked towards the temple, the tall dark towers looking upon them now. A frown came to their face, a familiar sinking feeling settling into their bones. They knew the Raven Queen cared for all her subjects, as one day they would return to her flock. But Era had a hard time wondering if they were cared for at all. They just wanted to be noticed, to feel like they had some sort of purpose.


End file.
